


End of the Road

by Detavot



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 07:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Detavot/pseuds/Detavot
Summary: Show me your best friend, and I shall know who you are.





	End of the Road

    A lone figure made its way through the bare trees coloured a frozen brown, and the whiteness which came with the English winter. It was called snow. Once upon a time, the man had known nothing about snow except for its name and the fact that it is cold. He had taken everything at face value, and never sought a deeper meaning where he would not expect it. It was later that he learned how snow could also be used to play games and laugh, and how it could be used to build however fleeting monuments.

    It was much, much later when he learned it was used to symbolise loneliness.

    He could see it now more than ever.

    The white colour dusted his pitch black hair, and melted on his sun-kissed brown skin. He did not shiver. It was no use to shiver, it would not bring him back the body heat robbed from him long ago. It would not preserve the life lost to him. His cheeks were sunken, his eyes had bags underneath, his hair was unwashed. If one would squint hard enough, they could see him stumble and shamble his way much like a corpse walking without purpose.

    What a foolish comparison... Corpses did not walk as aimlessly as he.

    The snow transformed to his unhealthily pale skin, the sky into the single eye he would look into; the rising sun became his mouth, and the treacherous cold wind his voice. _You shouldn't have come_ , he said sadly. _Only the dead wander here._

    “I have lost my soul long ago,” the man answered. It was just like them, the boy trying to drive him away while he remained stubborn. But not stubborn enough, never stubborn enough.

    _He would not have wished to see you this way,_ the boy continued, and the man wanted to cut his little tongue off so he would just stop fucking talking. _You should be home and enjoying life, not wasting away in this cursed place._

    “Didn’t stop you from rotting, did it?”

    _Of course it did not, I was doomed from the start._

    “And I with you.” He could still remember it as clearly as if it were only a mere minutes ago. The unprovoked street brawl he had walked into, and how he had used it to his advantage for getting good food and a bed for free. He could hear the boy’s childish temper. He could hear the servants’ laughter, mindless chatter and chaos. He could remember the lessons he had been taught, and he could still feel the humility he had gained from them.

    He could hear the boy’s final words to him.

    The man had finally made it up the hill. He hummed a nursery rhyme he heard the boy had liked upon a time and life so far away. At the top of the hill was a lone, bare stone that would only pinpoint where the body’s pieces were buried, as there wasn't too much left of the boy’s corpse when they had managed to find him. The stone, should it have been the correct date, would have been currently crowded by the boy’s household. The man had purposefully come here at the wrong date, two days later than the correct one, so that he would not have to deal with the hassle of those people being worried about him while their paths were harder than his.

    The man lifted his eyes, expecting them to meet the stone, but instead he was met with the sight of a man of average height and a black suit. The man’s tongue tasted bile as he grew sick to his stomach at the offending sight.

    “Was it not enough?” he taunted and stood up straighter than he had in years. The false butler turned around in an act of surprise the man didn't believe for even a single second. The man remembered how afraid and respectful he had been of the false butler at the time, but he felt nothing but disgust and hatred for it now. “Sorry, there wasn't much left after your first round. I suppose you shall have to eat the dirt to get your fill, you miserable creature.”

    “Prince Soma,” the false butler, once named Sebastian Michaelis, greeted. His aloof and coordinated act was replaced by one of surprise, and Soma felt ready to throw up at the fact that the monster could imitate human emotion so well. The monster turned back to the stone. “So… you still visit him. He would be angry.”

    “Not like we’ll know either way, seeing as he doesn't exist anymore. Get away from him.” Soma walked forward and pulled the monster forcefully, and it allowed himself to be pulled away. Soma put himself between it and the stone. “You have taken him in every way you wanted and fulfilled your duty, you don't possess the right to be here anymore.”

    “He would be ashamed that you are not eating well,” the monster stated. His voice was emotionless now. Soma looked into its eyes and saw nothing in them. Well, at least the thing was honourable enough to stop the act when it was found out.

    “You do not care.”

    “It would not do if I didn't feed you,” the monster mused as if Soma had not spoken. “Not in front of his grave.” The monster’s hands lit up in pitch black flames and a plate of curry was summoned into one hand while he held the silverware with the other. Soma recognised the curry Agni’s had lost to, even without the bun obscuring it this time.

    “It’s better with the bun,” Soma said in the way of rejection, drained of too much energy to bother put any venom into his voice. The curry shaped itself into a bun and the monster held it to him in forceful command. Soma took the bun and saw what seemed to be victory in the demon’s eyes, ands dropped the bun straight to the ground while looking at it. The demon’s empty hand wavered for a moment, but it did not bother summoning anything else after such a plain and effective refusal.

    “He never liked curry,” Sebastian said and Soma listened because he was starved for information--enough to swallow his pride and listen to the monster who had murdered the child he thought of as a brother. “His sweet-tooth prevented him from enjoying anything sour or spicy. After you and Agni decided to stay, however, he began trying to eat it more often. He would end up hurling after taking a few bites, but he would order me to make it over and over again so that he could make progress. Despite his hard work, he never achieved finishing a plate.”

    The two remained quiet. The cold wind howled.

    “He refused to be killed in the same place as his family,” Sebastian stated quietly. “After what happened with his brother, he didn't see himself worthy enough to die where his family had. He even requested of me to leave him to rot in a ditch where no one could find him. I suppose we both underestimated how much you all cared.”

    “Why did you come here?” Soma asked. He grew tired of this forced small talk now. Sebastian remained quiet. He looked at the blank stone that marked where his former master lay.

    “It is the way it is,” Sebastian replied after a while. “My hunger would have always won at the end. It was inevitable.”

    “You speak as if you actually cared about him before you tore him to bloody pieces.”

    “You speak as if you know what you are talking about when all those drugs are inside you.” How observant this creature was. “Is this the only way you can deal with it?” Soma did not answer. He only sat on the ground with a small groan. The monster waited for a bit before sighing dejectedly. “... Good day to you, Prince Soma,” the demon said, and disappeared. Soma had no doubt this would be the last time they saw one another.

    “So, Ciel, you will never guess who I encountered today…” Soma started, a grin on his face as he looked at his brother in the eyes.

    Who cared if it was only a figment of his imagination if he believed it to be real?


End file.
